


on my own, here we go

by picht



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF, Stick It (2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Sports, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Emo Pat Gill, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gymnastics, M/M, Tags May Change, as always, gymnast brian, gymnast jenna, gymnast pat, gymnast simone, i am going to try to explain as well as i can in the notes tho, this may not make a ton of sense if you haven't seen it, yes this is a fusion fic with the movie stick it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22936858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/picht/pseuds/picht
Summary: Pat hates gymnastics and he hates Brian David Gilbert."De ja jealous, Pat?" He says after performing the world's most mediocre bar routine, still the same little bitch he’d been two years ago. Pat had scoffed at Brian's cookie cutter dismount, sure, but it hadn't been because he's jealous. It had been because Pat could pull off all those preteen stunts in his sleep and still be considered the biggest failure in gymnastics this side of the Mississippi.//stick it (2006) fusion fic because i'm a lesbian and i CAN
Relationships: Brian David Gilbert/Patrick Gill
Kudos: 46





	on my own, here we go

**Author's Note:**

> hello.
> 
> it's been...a hot minute. i thought i was largely done with polygon rpf but then 1) i got sick so 2) my fiance and i watched stick it which is my biggest comfort movie then 3) we watched the new overboard and 4) i said that pat gill in a keith haring shirt would singlehandedly get me back into polygon rpf and THEN 5) i made a joke about pat being haley graham and finally 6) my fiance begged me to write this.
> 
> this might not make sense if you haven't seen the movie stick it but feel free to read it anyway. the general gist is that pat is a gymnast who left gymnastics after walking out during a world competition due to family issues, he's forced to go back to gymnastics after getting in trouble with the law, he has a history with brian (another gymnast), a lot of people don't like him because he "choked" at worlds, he and some others from his academy make it to nationals where the athletes protest unfair judging by purposefully scratching their performances. character fusions are:
> 
> PAT GILL as HALEY.  
> BRIAN DAVID GILBERT as JOANNE.  
> JENNA STOEBER as MINA.  
> SIMONE DE ROCHEFORT as WEI WEI.  
> TARA LONG as BURT VICKERMANN.  
> ALLEGRA FRANK as FRANK.  
> THOMAS BIERRY as POOT.
> 
> there are some differences in this fic from the actual movie. feel free to look up the wiki synopses if you want, and i recommend watching this scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cgsvnSrYHds (aka the ice bath part), this scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LC3gW5vbG-g (when pat makes the first decision to scratch in solidarity with jenna), and this scene:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cz95WDzQ1Tk (simone breakdancing on the beam). finally, i am not a gymnastics expert, nor do i know ANYTHING about gymnastics really. i am just a lesbian who loves cheesy, emo girl power movies.
> 
> please enjoy! and if you do maybe let me know!

Pat hates gymnastics and he hates Brian David Gilbert.

"De ja jealous, Pat?" He says after performing the world's most mediocre bar routine, still the same little bitch he’d been two years ago. Pat had scoffed at Brian's cookie cutter dismount, sure, but it hadn't been because he's _jealous._ It had _been_ because Pat could pull off all those preteen stunts in his sleep and still be considered the biggest failure in gymnastics this side of the Mississippi.

Pat hates Brian David Gilbert and Pat _hates_ gymnastics. Pat hates holding back, and he hates music without lyrics in it, and he _really_ hates ugly, out of shape adults judging his every move as if they wouldn't curl up and die after one go at a pair of uneven bars. Pat hates gymnastics, but his dad doesn’t, and the judge who saw over his court case doesn’t, so seems like he's stuck here for now.

"Yeah, Bri. I'm real jealous of your perpetually unbalanced landing skills."

"My landing skills are not unbalanced, you--you-- _buffoon_ ," Brian replies, nearly sounding convinced if not for the look of concern on his face.

"God, do none of you know actual swear words here? Just call me a piece of shit and go," Pat says, rolling his eyes, and apparently the s word is what it takes to finally get Tara to step in.

“That’s _enough_.” She says it with a tone of finality. “Pat, Brian’s landing skills are not _perpetually_ unbalanced--” Brian looks smug at this. “--However, they are _occasionally_ unbalanced. You should be working on that, Brian. Not trying to talk smarter than the kid who busted through a stained glass window on a bike.” Brian looks taken aback, like he can’t imagine anyone actually criticizing his technique. Pat turns to go towards the old gym before anything else can get said about his delinquency--at least where he can hear.

  
  
  


Ice baths? Suck. Having your roommates loudly watch a news report on the time you walked out on worlds while you’re taking an ice bath? Sucks. Green Day only marginally helps, but at least it’s something.

“ _I’m having trouble trying to sleep,_ ” Billie Joe sings in his weird, affected voice, and Pat tries to shrug into a more comfortable position in the bath. His calves ache, his hips ache, his knees and hamstrings ache, his ankles ache, his back and his pecks and his shoulders ache, his fucking _dick aches_. Pat bangs his head along to the song, and then it hurts so instead he gently nods his head along. He can hear the tv from the other room, all _Pat Gill_ and _worlds_ and _choked_. He reaches down to turn his stereo up louder; not like anyone here likes him enough for it to matter that he doesn’t act like an asshole, anyway.

“ _On my own, here we go_.” Pat rolls his hips in the ice bath, then his ankles, then his shoulders. He sinks down further and wishes he was in fucking juvy.

Eventually, Pat crawls his ass out of the tub and dries off as well as he can. He puts on some shorts and ventures out of the bathroom. Most of the other gymnasts are still in the living area, watching a movie because it’s Friday and they don’t have to go to training till noon. None of them pay him any mind--probably intent on pretending he doesn’t exist, which is fine by him. He paces up the stairs, into his room only to find Brian, laying face down on his bed several feet away from Pat’s.

Pat doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have the energy to be an asshole right now, but he also doesn’t want Brian to think he’s _not_ an asshole. All he has the energy for is climbing under his blankets in the dark with his ipod and hoping to be asleep within the next five minutes, except--

“What, uh… what was that song? You were playing?” Brian asks through the darkness.

“What?”

“I mean, not that I _care_ , it was just really loud while all the others were trying to watch tv. Kinda rude, tee bee aitch.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really care to hear some old ass newscaster talking about how I choked when I’m naked in the bathtub. It was Brain Stew by Green Day. You’ve probably never heard of them.” If Allegra and Thomas could hear Pat tell someone that they’ve _probably never heard_ of _Green Day_ , they’d laugh their asses off. But he’s an _asshole_ , okay? That’s his whole deal. He’s not here to make friends, he already _has_ friends. Brian is silent for a few moments. Pat turns to face the wall in the hopes that Brian is done speaking.

“Okay, well, um. It wasn’t… _bad_. I’ve never, um… listened to music--”

“You’ve never listened to music?”

“Like _that_ , I’ve never listened to music like _that_.” More silence for a few moments. Pat thinks maybe he can get away with turning his ipod on and passing out, but then, “You should, like, show me more music, sometime.”

Pat’s not here to make _friends_ , but he’s on the edge of sleep, so he doesn’t have the thought processes to say something rude. “Sure, Brian. Whatever.”

Brian is quiet again, and Pat finally gets his earbuds in _,_ and then-- “Hey, Pat?”

“ _What_ , Brian.”

“Why… _did_ you leave worlds?” Jesus fucking C _hrist_.

“Because I fucking _choked_ , Brian,” Pat says, turns Green Day back on, and passes the fuck out.

  
  
  


Pat didn’t fucking choke. Pat _didn’t fucking choke_. Pat found out that his asshole coach was shacking up with his asshole mom, and how the fuck was he meant to go out and do a floor routine in front of the entire world after that?

The issue here is that no one knows that part, and Pat isn’t about to share his Hashtag Tragic Backstory with people who arguably want him dead. So everyone thinks he just… _choked_. So maybe… he just choked.

A girl throws a drink on him.

He _fought_ his way to this invitational. _He_ made Tara hold the competition to give all the athletes a fair shot at qualifying. _He’s_ the reason Simone and Jenna are here, and that Brian actually had to put in real effort for something he wants for _once_. _He_ did that. And a girl throws a _drink_ on him.

“Bummer,” Thomas says as he and Allegra go to help find Pat a new singlet. “I was totally gonna throw a drink on you first. She ruined my plan!” Pat laughs, because he can’t very well cry right now.

The truth is, Pat doesn’t want to be here. He’d really rather be anywhere else _than_ here. He’d rather be in an empty pool at the skatepark, he’d rather be in that courtroom after crashing through a window and running from the cops, he’d rather be in _juvy_. He’d rather be _anywhere_ than here, at this invitational, surrounded by people who hate him and expect him to fail.

He gets through vault and then uneven bars, and things are fine. He’s getting his footing, he’s giving advice to Simone and Jenna, he’s even kind of enjoying himself. And then, during a break, he sees his mother.

“Patrick!” she says, stopping him in his tracks where he’s trying to walk back to the arena. “You’re doing good out there.” Pat immediately goes into fight or flight.

“...Thanks,” Pat replies eventually, and does not say, _you gonna shack up with Tara too?_

It’s quiet, for a moment. Pat is biding his time, looking for an escape, and then, “You should consider going back to DeFrank’s,” she says. “I’m sure he’d love to have you.”

“...You think I’m going back there? To him?” Pat asks. There’s a ringing in his ears, people closing in. He needs to leave.

“I think it’d be better for you--for your image, and for--” Pat needs to _leave_.

“Oh, like you care about _image_ \--” _Pat_ needs to _leave_.

“Just think about--” Pat needs--

“I’m not going back to DeFrank’s--” Pat needs to--

“Tara Long didn’t even _want_ you.” It’s not much, but it’s enough. Pat stops in his frantic tracks.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You think she just took you in, open armed? Your father is paying her _four times_ as much as the rest of her students.”

Pat doesn’t cry. He walks away, and doesn’t cry. He does a shitty beam routine, and doesn’t cry. When he’s walking out of the building before floor he doesn’t cry. When Brian David Gilbert grabs his arm as he’s nearly out of the stadium and pulls him aside, asks him what he’s doing, why he’s choking _again_ , _now_ , he doesn’t _cry_.

“I’m not fucking _choking_ ,” Pat yells it, largely on accident. “I didn’t fucking choke at worlds.”

“Yeah? Well then what _did_ you do, Patrick? Because to me it looks like you got _scared_ , and you _choked_.”

“I didn’t get _scared_ you piece of _shit_. I found out my fucking mom was sleeping with my fucking coach, okay? Can you fucking imagine that? Being fifteen, at fucking worlds, when your family is fucking ripped apart like that? God, Brian.” Pat feels like _he’s_ being ripped apart. “Fuck you.”

And he walks. And maybe he chokes. But he doesn’t cry.

  
  
  


The judge won’t let him leave (really, she encourages him to stay and says some very kind things, but some part of him is still grumpy about it). He gets back to LGA after dinner. The other athletes are all gathered around the old television set watching a movie, except for Brian. Simone, Jenna, and others wave to him, but Pat isn’t in the mood to talk.

He goes straight to his bedroom, only to find Brian sitting quietly on his bed, across the room from Pat’s. Pat throws his bag onto his bed as Brian says, “Hey, Pat.” Pat… is tired of being mean.

“Hi, Brian,” he says, sighing as he unzips his bag and pulls out a hoodie to shrug on.

“I wanted to say, that, um.” Brian pauses, like he’s struggling to get the words out. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry. For--for being mean, at invitationals. I didn’t know that, you know, that, uh--” Pat eyes him dryly. “--That what you told me was the, uh, case, and I shouldn’t have made assumptions about you.”

Here’s the thing: Pat _knows_ Brian. Pat trained with Brian for _years_ at DeFrank’s. And Brian’s always been kind of bitchy, but he’s never been truly _mean_. Not on purpose, at least. So Pat knows he’s being genuine, here. Pat doesn’t know how to take that.

“It’s--” Pat starts. There’s a million rude, dismissive responses on the tip of his tongue. But Pat is _tired_ of being rude. He’s tired of being edgy, and dismissive, and a miserable fucking teenager. It’s not fine, what happened, but, “It’s fine,” Pat says, and waves it off. “I can’t blame you for being angry.” There’s silence for a few moments. Brian taps his toes against the hardwood, constantly needing to be moving. Pat throws his bag on the ground and pats the mattress next to him. “You wanna listen to music? I bet you’d like My Chemical Romance,” Pat finally says; an olive branch.

Brian stands up and quickly fumbles over to Pat’s bed, and they sit there, ankles and knees and hips and shoulders touching after Pat gives Brian the second earbud. They sit there and they listen to The Black Parade and Pat closes his eyes, and when he feels Brian rest his head in the hollow of Pat’s neck, Pat doesn’t push the other boy off.

  
  
  
  


They’re scratching.

Jenna gets a 9.1 for what should have been a perfect vault performance because while she was flipping through the air her bra strap came out. Pat is up next, and he’s _pissed_ . He didn’t come back to the sport for one of the most talented athletes he’s met to be fucking cheated out of a 10. So what else is he supposed to do but walk down the runway, jump on the vault, and deliver a huge _fuck you_ to all the old ass adults who think it’s their right to judge these athletes despite never being able to pull off even a fraction of the things they can.

Pat flips off the crowd, and people are shocked. The judges are angry. Jenna, across the stadium, is crying. He jumps off the vault and strides over to the rest of his team. It’s Brian’s turn, and something in Brian’s eyes is sparking in a way Pat’s never seen before. Brian gets to the edge of the runway, chalks his hands and feet, and waltzes down it to a song in his head. Brian’s been telling Pat, late at night, all about the music he writes. When he gets to the vault, he bends over, sticks a finger to his hip, and makes a hissing noise. He’s grinning as he comes back to the others and when he jumps in Pat’s arms Pat has no choice but to catch him. Simone goes next, and when she pulls out her bra straps, Pat thinks, _holy fuck, the bra thing,_ and then, one by one, they all do it. All the athletes scratch in their own way. The judges are furious. Pat looks up into the crowd and sees his mother seems to have walked out. Brian’s smile is… really nice.

Jenna wins vault by default, because they scratch--all of them do. They scratch for the other events, too. They talk about it, they all plan the winners of the events themselves. It’s fucking revolutionary.

Nastia delivers an incredible uneven poles routine, and Simone fucking _breakdances_ on the beam. Eventually, Pat walks up the steps to the spring floor during floor, and Brian and the others shout his name, and a Fall Out Boy song plays, and he’s in the air and he’s _in love_ \--with gymnastics, with the music, and maybe... maybe with a boy whose voice he hears above the rest.

**Author's Note:**

> i really recommend stick it to anyone who hasn't seen it; it's a really fucking awesome commentary on the state of gymnastics judging and it's a huge girl power movie with a really fucking great emo soundtrack. thanks for reading everyone! i dont post on tumblr much but if you want you can find my blog @ butchbert OH ALSO I OWN A POLYGON DISCORD SERVER LOL feel free to join it here: https://discord.gg/HPyTvhc . theres technically a no rpf rule but we're p lax about jokes n stuff its really just Not that deep


End file.
